Read Online Pushing Murder by Eleanor Boylan - Free Book Online Page B

was a school night, but it was the only way she could think of to get Hen out of here. I consider it inspired.”
    â€œSo do I.” My estimation of Kit soared. Coming up with a quick, clever, humane move under appalling circumstances, she could still regret it being a school night.
    Henry said, “I insisted she and Dan stay home tonight.”
    â€œGood. Now, you go home too, dear. Is the snow very bad? I hope you’re not driving in this.”
    â€œNo, Tina has the car. I’ll cab it.”
    â€œSo go.”
    â€œNot till Dan comes in at six.”
    I believe there’s an expression that “something snaps inside you.” In my case it wasn’t so much a snap as a surge of pure rage.
    â€œHenry, I’m sick to death of bodyguards and special food and long-suffering relatives standing by! I almost wish Dwight Dunlop would walk in this room right now. I’d spit in his eye as he killed me—just so you saw him do it.” I gulped my coffee. “Damn! I wish I could just talk to the police, I mean, in a sort of general way—”
    â€œMom, you’d never forgive yourself if you tipped your hand. Remember, we have to consider Sal’s safety. She’s going to be Dunlop’s ultimate shield.”
    â€œOh, poor Sal, poor Sal…” I realized my voice was trailing. “Why do I feel weird again?”
    â€œIt’s the shot. Dr. Cullen said it’s the kind that will let you come up for a while and then you’ll go down again. It’s—”
    â€œIt’s a plot to keep me woozy!” I cried, as indignantly as wooziness would allow.
    â€œYes, actually.” Henry leaned over and kissed me. “We knew you’d be like a raging lion. Don’t fight it. By the way, I’m taking a few days’ vacation. See you later.”
    â€œMust you sit outside that door?” I murmured, wishing terribly that someone was sitting outside Sal’s door …
    *   *   *
    I surfaced to halfhearted light and the snow on the window turning to rain. A young nurse was washing my face, and Dr. Cullen was standing by the bed.
    â€œMrs. Gamadge, I know you’ll be disappointed, but you can’t go home just yet.”
    I glared at her around the facecloth. “What’s ‘just yet’? Not today?”
    â€œAnd not tomorrow. You’ve suffered a severe shock.”
    â€œYou bet I have. I need to go home and recuperate.”
    She didn’t smile. “You need to stay right here. Don’t fight me, and I promise to let you go on Christmas Eve.”
    Christmas. Was that still going to happen in the midst of all this horror? I put my hands up and pressed the warm, damp facecloth against my eyes. I said, “I’m in a fog. When’s Christmas?”
    â€œSaturday. This is Wednesday.”
    I looked at the wall. Dear Santa, for Christmas I would like Dwight Dunlop behind bars. The nurse dried my face and left. Dr. Cullen drew a chair to the bed and sat down. Her hand on my pulse, she said, “Your son told me you know who killed your friend but you can’t prove it.”
    â€œYes.” I turned my head and looked at her. “Were you in the hospital when it happened?”
    â€œNo. I was at home. I’d just talked to your son on the phone, and I was coming to the hospital to see another patient, so I said I’d stop by to tell you…”
    â€œI could go home.”
    â€œYes. When I got here the police were all over the place. Of course, I didn’t connect it with you when they said a woman had been murdered in the chapel.”
    Murder in the cathedral. I am in no danger, only near to death …
    She released my wrist and sat back in the chair. “Your son also told me this man is the same one who tried to kill you.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œAnd that you know a woman who is more or less hostage to him.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œAnd of